


right here, waiting

by dollyeo



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Date, M/M, Pining, Truth or Dare, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 04:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17460599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollyeo/pseuds/dollyeo
Summary: Maybe Wonwoo shouldn't have chosen dare. He's kinda bad at playing this game.





	right here, waiting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scarletlevi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletlevi/gifts).



In retrospect, Wonwoo wishes he’d kept his mouth shut in the first place.

He’s over at Soonyoung’s on a Friday night, which isn’t too unusual. It’s practically routine to swing by each other’s dorm room on their breaks, if only to mooch off of each other’s food budget and, in turn, look to the kindness of their parents’ hearts for more money, using each other as a scapegoat for their dwindling allowance. And, hey, if they get called boring shut-ins or domestic life partners when they choose to play video games or watch movies with bags of junk food surrounding their nest of blankets and pillows, well, Wonwoo doesn’t really mind. He’s been called far worse things before, and most of them by Soonyoung.

Still, what he’s not used to is watching Soonyoung go through his own closet more than three times in the past hour struggling to find something to wear. It’s surreal, watching Soonyoung fuss and fret, when most days Soonyoung just tugs on the cleanest pair of pants and a shirt he can find just to go outside. One time, he’d shown up for class in pajamas. _Pajamas_. Wonwoo’s never going to unsee the rabbit-printed short shorts, the clench of fondness in his chest aside. Soonyoung’s just not the type to be careful about little things like that.

There’s still that annoying bloom of affection filling his chest now, though it’s steadily dampened by surliness. As much as he’d want nothing more than to laugh at Soonyoung until the worry in his brow morphed into genuine irritation, there’s nothing funny about their situation right now. Sure, it’d been funny days ago, when they’d been playing Truth or Dare at Seungcheol’s apartment and egging each other on; it’d been less funny when they’d sobered up and realized later on the implications of choosing dare instead of truth.

He couldn’t choose truth though— how could he? Soonyoung had been so, so hell-bent on finding out things he’d wanted to keep squirrelled away in his heart, under lock and key, never to see the light of day; it had seemed easier for him to choose the lesser part of courage and ask Jihoon out, only to receive a flat, resounding rejection that he hadn’t felt the least bit regretful about, no.

Now if only he hadn’t tried to take revenge and dared Soonyoung to ask Wen Junhui out, too, when the bottle had landed on him next. And that should have been it; it should have ended there.

The problem is no one really expected Junhui to say yes.

He tries to pay more attention to the book on his knees, page unturned for the past half hour. Soonyoung’s tugging off the fifth pair of bottoms already, the back of his bare thighs screaming at Wonwoo in the face, and he’s huffing and trying to reach for a pair of pants folded high atop the space on his cabinet he barely uses. Wonwoo lets his eyes skim up as Soonyoung reaches up on his tiptoes, watching how his bright red briefs peek out from under the hem of the button-down he’d wrangled from Wonwoo’s spare clothes lying around his room. Guilt settles into the pit of his stomach, familiar and unsettling as the dissatisfaction stewing in his gut. He wants to hook his arms around Soonyoung’s stomach and tug him closer, asking him, in a hushed voice, if he could stay instead.

Because he’s a coward, he clenches his fingers into a fist and looks away.

“Don’t you think you’re making a big deal out of this?” He asks, voice rough. He clears his throat, trying to will the lump in his stomach away, but it stays there, lingering and heavy, blocking his windpipe. He looks down at his book, fussing at the spine. “I mean, it’s just one date.”

“ _Just one date_ ,” Soonyoung huffs, scrabbling up at the pants and wheezing. His fingers catch at a tiny part of the fabric, then tugs down, hard enough to dislodge everything else from its neat pile. His mother is definitely going to kill him. “Don’t you mean, the best date of my life?”

“It’s the only date you’ve ever been on,” Wonwoo points out.

Soonyoung’s head whips around so fast to glare at him, Wonwoo’s almost afraid he’ll break his neck. “With the most _gorgeous_ man I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Not true,” says Wonwoo. “You’ve met me!”

Soonyoung’s glare relaxes into good humor, but the laughter that comes out of his throat doesn’t settle Wonwoo’s nerves, not in the least. “ _Please_ , you’re not as hot as you think you are.”

Wonwoo sulks into his seat, scowling. “I’m handsome! Even your mother thinks so!”

“My mom thinks anyone who isn’t her only son is good-looking,” says Soonyoung, rolling her eyes. He throws the pants he’d discarded earlier at Wonwoo, smacking him in the face. “Besides, what good did your looks get you when you asked Jihoon out?”

“He was there when you drunk-dared me to do it,” says Wonwoo. “Of course he wasn’t gonna say yes.”

“And you think if Junhui were, he would reject me?” Soonyoung asks, loftily.

“He won’t,” says Wonwoo, gravely. “Junhui’s the biggest pushover I know.”

“Don’t you have any faith in my seduction skills?”

Wonwoo keeps his eyes fixed firmly on his book, and not anywhere near the jut of Soonyoung’s bottom lip, the outline of his collarbone peeking out from the V of his shirt. The redness of his elbows. The taper of his waist to his hips. Lower, still. He sucks in a deep breath, then chooses retreat. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

That, at least, sets Soonyoung back into a state of panic, and Wonwoo watches him struggle to fit into the tightest pants he owns— _fuck_ — while rolling around his bed trying to pull them on. “Text him I’ll be late!” Soonyoung orders him, red-faced.

Wonwoo doesn’t even blink. “No.”

“ _Text him_!” Soonyoung yowls like an angry, harried cat. “Or— or— I’ll tell Jihoon you have a tiny dick!”

“You don’t even know how big my dick is,” Wonwoo mutters, and doesn’t even bother to tell him Jihoon doesn’t even care. Soonyoung remains under the incorrect assumption that Wonwoo’s ass over tits for Jihoon ever since freshman year, and it’s only because Wonwoo always, _always_ turns to look at Jihoon in increasing panic every time someone interrogates Wonwoo in Soonyoung’s presence if he’s interested in anyone at the moment. Wrong person, wrong timing. The karmic gods must be laughing at him.

Still, he’s nothing if not surreptitiously obedient, and he tells Junhui Soonyoung’s incapacitated at the moment and will meet him later than planned. _He’s in the toilet_ , Wonwoo lies. _There’s a bit of an emergency_.

There, that should at least ensure no one gets up to any funny business concerning Soonyoung’s ass, unless it involves him getting his ass kicked by Wonwoo. Junhui sends him a shocked cat gif in reply, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes and tries not to feel absolutely miserable for wishing the worst of their date. Junhui’s not a bad person, really. It’s just the wrong person, the wrong timing, and Wonwoo being a fucking idiot of the highest order.

Five minutes later, Wonwoo finds himself getting dragged out of his nest of blankets to peer over at Soonyoung’s prostrate form on his bed, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. “What’s wrong this time?” Wonwoo asks.

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything at first, just stares some more at some non-existent spot on his ceiling Wonwoo can’t make out. Wonwoo tries to poke him on the side, but Soonyoung doesn’t push him away, no. He doesn’t even blink.

And that— that’s what worries Wonwoo enough to crawl into bed with him and paw at his shoulder, gently.

“Wonwoo,” says Soonyoung, voice small, “I think I’m gonna barf.”

“Please don’t tell that to your date,” Wonwoo reminds him, long-suffering.

“It’s my first date,” says Soonyoung, halting— he says the words slowly, like he’s measuring and weighing his words.

“I think we’ve established that already,” says Wonwoo.

“I’ve never been on a date before,” says Soonyoung, ignoring him. “Not even once. What do you even do on dates, Wonwoo?”

“How should I know?”

“Haven’t you been on dates before?”

“No,” says Wonwoo. “Never.”

“Well,” says Soonyoung, mournfully. “Guess I’m fucked.”

Wonwoo presses his palm against Soonyoung’s cheek, thumb resting at the soft skin. “We’ve hung out a lot, though,” Wonwoo offers, weakly, even as his throat dries up at Soonyoung’s shaky exhale. “You can always think of those as practice dates.”

“But I’m not attracted to you,” says Soonyoung, which— ouch? “But Junhui— Junhui’s out of my league, Wonwoo.”

“He’s a dork,” says Wonwoo. “Kind of a dumbass. Minghao thinks he’s five years old.” He presses his lips into a firm line, then tries to stifle the ache. “But he’s funny, and he’s nice, and he’ll definitely be as nervous as you are. You can charm the pants off of him, no question. He’s a good guy. He’ll take care of you.”

“Sometimes, I think you have too much faith in my abilities,” says Soonyoung, smiling at him so softly, Wonwoo can’t help but smile back and fuss at Soonyoung’s collar before he does something stupid like grab him by the back of his neck and kiss him, slow and deep.

“You’re pretty easy to love,” says Wonwoo. He braces himself for the acid to rise in his stomach, but there’s none, no. Just fondness. “Now come on. I’ll walk you to the restaurant. Then, if you’re bored or you decide you hate it, just call me. I’ll come pick you up, whenever you want.”

“And if I don’t?” Soonyoung asks.

Wonwoo closes his eyes. “Then I’ll be here,” he says, hand pressed against Soonyoung’s chest, right where he imagines his heart to be. “Waiting. Even if it takes me all night.”


End file.
